


Blizzard

by shieldivarius



Series: Femslash Yuletide 2013 [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash Yuletide, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt: Blizzard, Snowed In, Tribadism, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:30:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shieldivarius/pseuds/shieldivarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were snowed in. In a powerless shack. In Siberia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blizzard

_“We’re not going to be able to fly you out any time soon. Not with these conditions. Stay warm,”_ Coulson said, voice buzzing in and out over the weak radio signal. It had practically been snowed out with this blizzard, never mind their hope of getting out of Siberia before the weather got any worse and the dumping of snow barricaded them in this little hellhole of a shack.

Natasha tossed another chunk of wood on the little fire burning in the grate. 

“Copy,” Melinda said behind her. “We’ll be here when it clears.” 

Natasha laid her hand against the stone of the fireplace. Not warm beneath her glove, exactly, but it was getting there. Better than it had been, and once the rocks warmed, the building would warm up considerably. If their little supply of firewood lasted that long, anyway.

She tested the electric heater, but the power to the hut was still out.

“Nothing,” she said to Melinda’s questioning look. 

Melinda sighed. “The consolation is that we’re not working in it,” she said. She nodded toward the window and Natasha looked over and grimaced. The sill was half full of snow, and more large flakes were dropping every second. 

Natasha grabbed two blankets from the trunk by the wall and dropped them next to the fire, hoping they’d warm up some before they were really needed. She crouched next to the flames, holding gloves hands outstretched, and Melinda bent down next to her. Both of them wore heavy winter coats, because even though they were out of the wind in here—mostly, it was still draughty—the air wasn’t much warmer than the air outside.

The walls of the shack were too thin to have any insulation in them, whoever had built it probably intended it for summer use only. They were lucky for the blankets at all.

“We could hang those on the walls,” Melinda suggested. 

“Better to wrap them around ourselves,” Natasha said with a shake of her head. “Trying to keep the cold out of this place is a losing battle.”

Melinda made a noise in her throat, half disapproval, half deep thought. Mirroring Natasha’s actions from earlier, she laid a hand against the stones. 

“Not going to warm up for a while,” Natasha said, and rubbed her hands together. Her gloves were damp, and despite the thermal lining inside the gloves, her fingers weren’t staying warm.

Melinda grabbed Natasha’s hands and held them between her own. It wasn’t much warmer, but it forced them to sit closer together and Natasha raised an eyebrow. Melinda reached over and flicked the radio over so that it only received and wouldn’t be broadcasting.

Natasha’s eyebrow went higher. 

“Lay one of the blankets down,” Melinda instructed.

Natasha let out a little laugh. “I understand where you’re going with this, but there’s more merit to keeping our clothes on than taking them off.”

“Not with them as damp as they are,” Melinda replied. “They’ll dry faster against the stone. We’ll warm up faster under the blankets.”

Natasha withdrew her hands from Melinda’s and shucked her gloves off, rubbing them together again in the chilled cabin air. “Trying to get me in bed, Agent May?”

“Do you think a blanket in front of the fire is more or less romantic?” Melinda asked, her voice deadpan. 

“In a cabin north of the arctic circle in the middle of a blizzard? Practically a rom com.”

Melinda snorted, dropped her own gloves next to Natasha’s and slid their fingers together, pulling her in for a kiss. Neither of their lips were warm, per se, but Melinda’s against hers were warmer than the air and their close proximity to each other and the fire trapped a bit of heat between them.

Melinda broke off and selected the thicker blanket of the two, spreading it out on the floor so close to the flames burning low in the grate that a spark could set it alight. Natasha didn’t shift it over, though. They were going to need the close proximity to the flames.

They dropped their coats at the same time and Natasha shivered in the exposure to the cold. Her coat may have been damp but it had been warm and damp, as opposed to the air, which was damp and cold. Melinda pulled her close and rubbed her hands across her arms. Natasha reached over and grabbed the second blanket, pulling it around them even though it wasn’t warm yet. 

Shoulders brushing, they arranged the blanket around them until they were cocooned in it, knees and legs pressed against each other and nearly in one another’s laps. Lips met again and Melinda ran a hand up Natasha’s back until it tangled in her hair and tugged. Natasha moaned, her lips parting and it coming out in her kiss.

Melinda pulled back enough to speak. ”Touch yourself for me,” she said, and Natasha felt the words in the puff of breath against her lips. 

She skimmed one hand up her thigh, brushing the back of it against Melinda’s knee because neither of them could see what was going on beneath the blanket, and brushed it up her stomach, slowly dragging her fingers across her breastbone between her breasts, the light trailing barely a tickle. Over top of her sweater she cupped one of her breasts, pushed it upward. 

Melinda’s hand found hers and guided it across to the other breast and prompted her to squeeze it once, gently, then guided her hand back down. Their lips touched again and Melinda teased at Natasha’s bottom lip with her tongue. Her hand mimicked the motion, fingers teasing at the bottom hem of Natasha’s sweater, cool against her stomach when she lifted the fabric to touch the skin hidden beneath.

“Under the shirt,” Melinda instructed, finding Natasha’s hand again and placing it against the bare bit of her stomach. Natasha slid her hand across her belly button and then up, the sweater rising and bearing her skin under the blanket, the warm air caught between them saving her from receiving too much of a chill.

Eyes locked with Melinda’s, Natasha cupped one breast, massaging and squeezing it through her bra. Melinda ran a finger down the zipper of Natasha’s jeans and along the seam below, drawing a gasp from Natasha when she gave a sharp upward flick at the end of the motion.

Melinda nudged Natasha back until she was lying down, one hand still moving back and forth and fondling her own breasts, nipples starting to pebble beneath her bra. The blanket tugged between them, not providing much warmth at all, and Natasha untangled herself from it. She pulled Melinda down almost on top of her, holding her by the arms, and their lips met. 

Natasha kept her hands locked around Melinda’s wrists, holding her in place, and Melinda was half holding herself in a push-up above her. Lips parted and their tongues met, kisses exploratory and deep. Melinda brought her thigh down, ground it between Natasha’s legs and Natasha moaned, distracted by the sensation that shot through her. Her head dropped back against the floor, the impact barely softened by the blanket. 

Melinda dropped a kiss to her neck, lips pressed against her pulse point, and pulled back.

“I want you to strip for me, just above the waist, and go back to touching yourself,” she said.

Natasha raised an eyebrow but conceded, sliding her hands across the blanket to just under her breasts, and cupping one in each hand over her sweater, flicking her thumbs over her covered nipples before moving her hands, fingers splayed, down her front and to the hem of her sweater. Sitting up just slightly, she peeled the sweater off and over her head, laying it down next to her so it wasn’t too far out of reach. 

The air against her front was cool, but the blanket at her back had warmed enough that it wasn’t unbearable, and the cabin was dim, but Melinda’s eyes were dark and lidded with arousal as she watched.

Natasha danced her hands across her bare stomach, skimming them over her bra and up to her collarbone and neck and then back down again, clenching her own thighs against the sensation starting to build up between her legs, teasing herself as much as Melinda.

Melinda had removed her coat and slid one hand under her shirt, and was playing with her own breast, backs of fingers making the fabric rise and fall as she massaged it.

“Bra,” Melinda murmured.

Natasha smiled, and with tiny, fractions of motions, removed her bra. Free of the compression, they fell to the side and Natasha shivered at the sudden impact of the cold air. Her nipples reacted, tightening and becoming hard peaks.

She pushed her breasts together, their weight heavy in her hands as she lifted them and massaged them, avoiding touching the hard points in the centre. Then, one finger at a time, she skimmed the pads across the hard tips, biting down on the corner of her lip at the sensation that travelled from them to between her legs. 

“Join me,” she murmured, back to holding her breasts in her hands, thumbs making little circles across and around her nipples.

Melinda stripped her shirt off without any flair, eyes still locked on Natasha, and her bra followed. She mirrored Natasha’s actions, cupping her breasts and running her thumbs across nipples that quickly grew hard from both the attention and cold.

Propping herself up on her elbows, gaze locked with Melinda’s, Natasha pressed the hard little peaks between thumb and forefinger, a flush running across her body when Melinda copied her and let out a soft groan. Natasha squeezed her fingers together, pinching, and her breath came in a gasp. Melinda’s eyelids fluttered.

One of Melinda’s feet found hers, and they were both still booted but they linked their ankles together, eliciting a smile from Natasha and raised eyebrows from Melinda. Still playing with one breast, alternating twisting the nipple side to side and tugging it outward, Melinda slid her other hand down her stomach to her pants, flicking open the button on her jeans and pulling down the zipper. 

Natasha mirrored, sliding her hand across the front of her panties, one finger travelling down and across the damp fabric over her folds.

“Don’t touch—”

Natasha cut her off with a raised eyebrow, but avoided ghosting her finger over her clit and went lower instead, tugging on her breast harder, and then sliding her hand across to the other and repeating the motion on it, to compensate for not sating the desire to flick the nub between her legs.

Shifting her hips around, Natasha moved until she had enough room to push her panties to the side and slip one finger into the moisture between the folds. 

Melinda, looking frustrated, was peeling off her boots with hasty, jerky motions. “Don’t stop,” she said, when Natasha paused and moved to help her. One of the boots, the second, which had been giving her a harder time than the first, got flung across the room. Natasha bit down on the inside of her lip, trying not to laugh. 

A log shifted on the fire, dropping onto a flame and cutting the amount of light in the cabin in half, and Melinda shifted over so that they were sitting between each other’s legs, and proceeded to remove Natasha’s boots as well. 

Natasha drew her hand out of her pants and wiped the damp fingertip across Melinda’s nipple, leaning forward and taking the other one into her mouth. She ran her tongue in circles around it, dipping the tip into every little crease, feeling every bump. Melinda’s let out a huff of breath, and her hands came up and slid into Natasha’s hair, her attempt to remove Natasha’s boots abandoned. 

Natasha pulled back, kissed the nipple and smiled up at Melinda, who leaned forward and returned the motions, warm breath surrounding and covering cold skin before she locked her lips around the nub and swirled her tongue around it. Natasha moaned.

Trying to multitask, Natasha fought with her boots, understanding Melinda’s frustration almost immediately, fingers not quite working or dexterous as they needed to be between the bone-deep chill and the attention torn from them by the pleasure.

She managed to get one boot off and gave up on the other in favour of holding herself up, head thrown back when Melinda’s attention spread to licking and sucking at one nipple and pinching at the other, then switching. She clenched the muscles between her legs, then, frustrated, snaked a hand between them and rubbed frantically at her clit through her panties, breath coming in shudders and her legs shaking in the beginnings of climax until Melinda pulled back and kissed her, swallowing the soft noise she made as she brought herself over the edge.

Natasha leaned back on her elbows for a moment, recovering and exchanging lazy kisses with Melinda.

“Lie back,” she murmured when she pulled away, and pushed at Melinda’s shoulder until she was over top of her partner. Melinda lifted her hips so that Natasha could tug her pants down and off before she leaned down and pressed her nose to the wet patch on Melinda’s panties, senses filling with the scent of her arousal. 

Bracing herself with one hand on each of Melinda’s thighs, Natasha placed open-mouthed kisses up and down the fabric, centring over the hidden clit and locking her lips there and sucking. Melinda took in a sharp breath through her nose, and her hands came down to hold onto Natasha’s. Natasha wiggled the fingers of one hand and slipped it from Melinda’s grasp, pushed her panties to one side and slid one finger up between her lips. 

She added a second finger a moment later, alternating between crooking them upward and scissoring them back and forth. Melinda moaned, and the hand not holding Natasha’s slid to rub at her swollen nub. Natasha leaned forward and licked around the base of her still moving fingers, swiping it up and down the inner folds and flicking it in and out, keeping the motions varied instead of making them a pattern. 

Melinda let out soft, frustrated cries and Natasha pulled away long enough to look up at her and give her thigh a soft squeeze. “Relax,” she whispered. “It’ll come.” She tugged Melinda’s panties down and out of the way, taking the hand Melinda still had working her clit and pushing it upward. “Touch your nipples,” she said.

She tongued over Melinda’s clit, earning a gasp from her partner and Melinda shifted her hips, grinding down toward Natasha’s mouth and still scissoring fingers. Natasha teased at her folds with tongue, teeth and lips until Melinda’s breathing got harsh and short, and she let out a long, soft moan.

Melinda sunk backward, legs splayed and relaxing, and Natasha kept going until she was being pushed away.

She looked up, smiled, and crawled up Melinda, staring down into sated eyes and blown pupils for a long minute before pressing their lips together in lazy kisses, Natasha’s eyes slipping closed. They lay that way for a few minutes until the relaxation led to chill, the air in the room settling down on their sweat slicked bodies more heavily than it had before.

Natasha took a moment to poke the fire, placing another log on it and watching to make sure it took before she tiptoed back across to Melinda and lay down, pulling the second blanket overtop of them. Tangled together, arms around each others waists and legs braided, they returned to exchanging kisses, keeping each other warm.

Melinda slid one hand up Natasha’s chest and traced fingers around a nipple until it rose to attention again, drawing a noise from Natasha’s throat. Her arousal rekindling, they pressed their hips together, and Natasha could feel moisture from Melinda building on her thigh as she ground down against it.

Their increased frantic motions made it grow warm under the blanket, arousal and desperation speeding their motions until they were coming again, face to face with lips locked and swallowing the soft sounds. 

Natasha played with the strands of hair that had fallen across Melinda’s face as they recovered, pressed kisses to her nose, half-closed eyelids and cheeks.

“We’re snowed in,” Melinda observed, and Natasha looked over at the window, which had been covered entirely in snow while they were occupied. She grunted, pulled over their coats and bundled them into pillows for their heads.

“It’ll stop eventually,” she said. 

“We should be dressed when the rescue team comes in to get us.”

Natasha made a noise of agreement in her throat, but her eyelids had flickered closed and she held Melinda and her extra body heat firmly to her side. “We will be,” she murmured.

Melinda said something in response, and shifted, but Natasha fell asleep a moment later.

**Author's Note:**

> http://shieldivarius.tumblr.com


End file.
